


and she was there, all pink and gold and glittering

by ohprongs



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bookstore AU, Developing Relationship, F/F, Human AU, Student!Alec, Student!Aline, Student!Helen, Summer Romance, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-06-28 04:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohprongs/pseuds/ohprongs
Summary: Helen likes to think of herself as a dedicated student, but even she can admit that, recently, she’s been studying the cute dark-haired girl who seamlessly mans the café in Ouroboros Books more than her college notes. Not that that matters, really, because it’s summer, full of family days and music and sun-warmed laughter. But deep down, she longs for a summer romance straight out of a song, and she can’t help wondering whether Café Girl might be the one she’s been waiting for.Aline agrees to help out at the bookstore as a favour for Alec. It doesn’t hurt that she can put her tip money towards her travel plans, dip into the shop’s recently expanded queer lit section during quiet periods in the café, and tease him about his crush on the effortlessly charming man who brings his niece to the children’s weekend book group. Really, she’s already winning, and she doesn’t expect anything else to come of it. But there’s a blonde girl with a sunshine smile who stops by the café almost every other day, and Aline wonders whether maybe the summer’s greatest joys are yet to be found.aka the bookstore/coffee shop/summer au (that’s a thing) ft. heline.





	and she was there, all pink and gold and glittering

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was written for the [shadowhunters big bang 2019](https://shbigbang.tumblr.com) \- you can find the other fics in the collection [here](https://archiveofourown.com/collections/SHBB19). 
> 
> as usual in a big bang, this project was a collaborative effort between a writer, beta and artist. thank you to [liz](https://alecsimon.tumblr.com) for beta'ing and [rike](https://eternalalec.tumblr.com) for making art!!
> 
> posting this is bittersweet because it's going to be my last fic in this fandom (though liz and i are still planning to finish _[the mercy of perfect sunlight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920307)_ ). i've made so many friends and it's been a blast, so thank you all <3 
> 
> title from _only if for a night_ by florence and the machine, because i listened to ceremonials on repeat when i first started writing fanfic back on ff.net, and we might as well end as we began.

The grainy wooden floorboards creak under Helen’s feet with every step she takes up the rickety staircase. The sound makes her wince, wondering whether the owners of Ouroboros Books would let her return if she set the rickety upper floor splintering with one carelessly misplaced step. 

Probably not, and that would be a shame. She’s grown used to the shop’s ever-present smell of old books and its tomes’ well-thumbed pages, the beams of sunlight that filter in through the wide open windows. The high-backed leather chair in the corner of the café which is more comfy than it looks when she curls up in it to write her music, the tall guy downstairs who plucks biochem books off the top shelf for her. She’d miss the familiar air of the bookshop that’s become her sanctuary over the last few weeks, a world away from the chaos of home and all her siblings.

A dark haired girl comes into view as Helen climbs the stairs. She has her back to Helen, busy wiping down the counter, but when a particularly loud floorboard announces Helen’s presence, she looks over.

“Oh, hey.” 

She waves. Helen waves back, letting her hand hang aimlessly in the air for a moment. The girl looks particularly pretty today in a pink shirt, her hair back in a ponytail and her dark eyes lit by the summer sunshine. She’s the kind of girl Helen could write albums of love songs about.

Okay, so maybe she’d miss more than just the bookshop. 

Helen makes her way to the leather chair she always claims and starts unpacking her college books from her bag. The girl smiles at her from across the room, and it gives Helen a burst of confidence to strike up conversation.

“Busy day?”

They have short, polite conversations like this most of the time, but Helen still doesn’t know the girl’s name. Apparently the shop isn’t the kind of establishment that believes in name tags. 

The girl shrugs easily. “This early on a Saturday? You’re our most dedicated customer by far.”

Helen’s face warms. The girl is most likely teasing, but maybe Helen’s being too obvious. Should she stop coming for a few days? Does the girl who mans the café even give Helen’s presence a second thought? If she does, would she come to the right conclusion, or would she just assume Helen really, really likes - frankly - mediocre coffee?

“What can I say?” Helen says weakly, flipping her notepad to the right page. “I live for your lattes.”

The girl laughs. “I know that’s not true.” She peers disdainfully at the coffee machine to her left. “Maryse is like a second mom to me, but she knows basically nothing about coffee.”

Helen lifts an eyebrow.

“Maryse,” the girl explains, fiddling with the cloth in her hand, “she owns the bookshop.”

Helen pictures the confident woman she’s seen downstairs before with sleek, shoulder-length dark hair and a welcoming smile.

“I think I’ve seen her around.” Helen glances down at the notepad, then back up. She catches the hint of a smile on the girl’s lips. “You aren’t worried she’ll hear you bad-mouthing her taste in coffee?”

The girl does smile this time, pleased. “She’s not here - she’s on her honeymoon.” With a nod downstairs: “Her son’s looking after the shop while she’s away - Alec. Tall guy you’ve probably seen scaring away customers.”

Helen smiles too. “He seemed nice,” she says with a shrug. “He gave me a discount on the last set of books I bought.”

The girl’s eyebrows climb. “Wow. What’d you do?”

Pulse stuttering, Helen steels herself against that familiar flash of nervousness, fear. She takes a breath to steady herself.

“I didn’t do anything,” she says. “He just said he liked the bi pride pin I have on my jacket.”

The girl watches her speculatively for a pain-staking moment, then looks down, smiling to herself. 

“It was Alec’s idea to expand the queer lit section here,” she starts tentatively, eyes darting up to meet Helen’s, as if to make sure she’s listening, then away. “When he first came out, his mom wasn’t…anyway, I think it’s Maryse’s way of showing her support now, you know? So I’ve been helping him choose some books to order in.”

Helen nods. “You two are friends?”

The girl’s smile brightens. “Old friends, yeah. We go way back.” She licks her lips, pushes back her shoulders. “He was actually the first person I came out to.”

She holds Helen’s gaze for a long time after that. It’s the longest conversation they’ve had, and while this can be difficult to talk about, it’s easy with Aline. There’s something charged about the moment, each of them giving the other their full attention. Helen’s breath gets caught in her throat and her stomach flutters with anticipation.

The moment breaks.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get on with studying,” the girl says, loudly, suddenly, wiping her cloth across a spot on the counter that Helen’s sure is already clean. 

“It’s summer,” Helen says, putting her notepad down and tucking her legs up underneath herself. She angles her body so that she’s facing the girl directly and drops her chin into her palm. “Studying can wait.”

The girl puts down her cloth and steps out from behind the counter to pull up a chair opposite Helen. 

“I guess it’s quiet in here,” she says, more to herself than anything. 

It strikes Helen as a bit ridiculous that they’re both busy making excuses to stop and talk to each other, but she loves this stumbling, awkward stage of attraction when they’re teetering on the cusp of something amazing. 

“I’m Helen, by the way,” she says. 

The girl smiles and holds out her hand. Helen shakes it. Tingles shoot down her spine when their hands touch and she marvels at the feel of the girl’s soft skin. 

“I’m Aline.”

∞

“So, whatcha doing?” 

Aline folds her arms along the back of Helen’s chair, peering over Helen’s shoulder. She always thinks of it as Helen’s chair, getting miffed when other customers sit in it, even though she knows it’s silly. She’s just so used to looking over and seeing the blonde girl tucked away in the corner of the café that it doesn’t feel right without her there.

Helen startles and covers her notepad with her hands. It makes no difference, really; even with the ill-advised violin lessons Aline had taken as a child, she can no more read the sheet music Helen’s trying to hide than she can stop hurtling headfirst into a crush on the girl. There’s a title scrawled across the top of the paper:  _ Sunshine Smile _ . 

“Studying,” Helen says, hastily rearranging her papers. Aline doesn’t comment, but her silence is apparently judgemental enough for Helen to get flustered. “I  _ was _ studying. I got distracted.”

Aline hums, flopping down in the chair opposite Helen. “By what?”

Helen doesn’t answer. Instead, she huffs a little laugh and tucks her hair behind her ear, a gesture that shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

“Nothing. My mind wandered, that’s all. Anyway, can you blame me? Enzymes aren’t exactly inspiring.”

“It’s true,” Aline says, laughing. “Biochemistry majors are the worst.”

Helen gives an affronted little  _ hey  _ and pokes Aline’s side, but she’s grinning. Aline shrugs.

“Except you.”

Helen blinks at her, her smile growing softer. She looks like she’s about to say something when she catches sight of something over Aline’s shoulder and nods towards it. 

“I think you have customers.”

Aline glances around and sees a man in a smart velvet blazer with a young girl, who’s bouncing on her heels as she peers into the glass cabinet that displays the café’s baked goods. She stands and drags herself away from Helen, walking back towards the counter.

“What can I get you?”

The man smiles at her. He’s beautiful, Aline thinks. (She might be a lesbian, okay, but she has eyes.) She can’t help but appreciate his impeccable taste, from the nonchalant swoop of his hair to the cascade of necklaces draped over his silk shirt.

“A unicorn cookie and an orange juice for Madzie, please, and…oh, I’ll have one of your pride flag cookies. And a chai latte. Thank you.”

“Coming right up.” Aline serves both cookies onto plates and puts them on a tray, then sets about making the latte for the man. She serves it alongside an orange juice, and she’s just about to ring up the order when the man lifts his hand.

He gives a sheepish smile and says, “Uh, Alec said if I told you he sent us, you’d give us a discount?”

Aline tries to hide her laugh behind a cough. This must be the man who’s made  _ quite  _ the impression on Alec - she’s heard so much about him already - and she can’t wait to tease him about it later. 

“Did he? Well, sure. No problem.”

After the man has paid, he stuffs several notes in the tip jar and Aline can tell just by looking that it’s far more than the discount she’s just given him. She can’t deny that it gives her a good feeling about him. He encourages the little girl he’s with to choose somewhere for them to sit. 

Picking up the tray, he winks at Aline as he turns to leave. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Anything for Alec’s favourite customer,” Aline chirps, grinning, and when she glances over to share a conspiratorial glance with Helen at Alec’s expense, she finds Helen already watching her, smiling softly.

∞

The next time Helen stops by the bookshop, Aline isn’t there. She tries not to feel too crushed - or, at least, not to let it show too much on her face.

“Can I get you anything?” the girl at the counter asks. She’s beautiful, too, with black hair and dark eyes, and Helen can’t help wondering whether the shop only has a policy of hiring people who send her into a mild bi panic every time she sees them. She decides that’s ridiculous.

Probably.

“Uh, no, I…” Glancing around, Helen’s gaze stops on her usual spot in the corner. “I’ll have a flat white, please.” The girl nods and starts wrestling with the coffee machine. Helen clears her throat. “Are you new? I’ve been here a few times and not seen you around before.”

The girl shakes her head. “I’m just covering for Aline for a few days. Cooking isn’t exactly one of my strengths, so it’s probably a good thing. Don’t tell my mother I said that.”

“Oh, you’re Maryse’s daughter?” 

“Isabelle Lightwood,” she says, holding out her hand. Helen shakes it, then takes the coffee Isabelle slides across the counter. 

She aims for casual interest when she asks, “So, where’s Aline?”

“She’s at a criminology conference for a week. Her thesis supervisor is presenting, apparently.”

Helen nods. 

Isabelle narrows her eyes as she rings up the coffee. “You’re not Helen, are you, by any chance?”

Helen’s eyebrows lift. “That’s me.” She can’t help the slightly apprehensive chuckle that escapes her as she pays. “Why? Did Aline...mention me?”

Isabelle watches Helen in silence, her lips tugging upwards. With an elegantly nonchalant shrug: “Once or twice.”

∞

Aline descends the stairs two at a time as she shrugs on her leather jacket, probably displaying a worrying disregard for her own safety. Alec is still cashing up when she gets downstairs and when he looks over at her, she taps an imaginary wrist on her watch.

“I know, I know.” He gestures to the money in front of him. “I’m nearly done.”

Aline untucks her hair from her jacket collar and then smooths it down, using the glass shopfront as a mirror. Beside her reflection, she can see the back of the yellow poster stuck to the shop window: Helen is playing at an open mic tonight, and had dropped by the shop to ask if she could stick up an ad for it. As soon as Aline heard about the event, she told Alec they were going, but she knows neither of them believe her story about showing up just to support dedicated customers. 

“Just don’t make us late, Lightwood.”

Magnanimously, Aline ignores Alec’s snort of laughter from behind her. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Aline turns, sending him an unimpressed look. He’s finally finished cashing up and is putting on his own jacket as he crosses the shop floor. 

She says, “You’re telling me that if Magnus was playing an open mic, you wouldn’t be in the front row?”

Alec’s cheeks go pink and he shoos her out the door before switching off all the lights and locking up.

“The bar’s five minutes from where we’re grabbing food. We’ll be there on time, I promise.” Alec shakes his head. “I can’t believe you used Magnus against me like that.”

Aline grins at him. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she falls into step beside Alec as they wander to a divey diner they’d found as teenagers. Back then, they’d both been struggling to keep afloat against a tide of expectations and emotions, and Alec had been an anchor for her as she had been for him. Many a balmy summer night, just like tonight, had been spent finding comfort in the presence of another who understood you, no judgments, no questions asked.

“Yeah, well, you better ask him out before someone else does. Which is very likely, because he’s really fucking attractive.”

“You sure you’re not about to ask him out, Penhallow?”

“Oh, shut up. You like him, don’t you?” Aline peers at Alec, who’s looking away, unsuccessfully hiding his smile. “You  _ really _ like him.”

Finally, Alec laughs. “Yes, I do. You know, I already had this conversation with Izzy. You two are too similar.” Before Aline can come up with a witty retort, Alec is speaking again. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll ask Magnus out if you ask Helen out.”

“Hey, I…” 

Aline trails off as she lets her mind wander to actually asking Helen out. She finds her tongue jammed against the roof of her mouth, but butterflies in her stomach. She’s never properly asked anyone out before; she and Caroline had managed to go on three dates before either of them realised they were dates. After that, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal to ask her girlfriend to go somewhere with her, but now the idea of asking Helen on a date is terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.

“She really likes you,” Alec says, as if he can tell she needs a nudge of encouragement. “She always asks if you’re in when she comes by, and she specifically asked me to mention this open mic thing to you.”

“Wait, does that mean she asked me on a date  _ through you _ ?”

Alec laughs. “No, I just think she wanted you to be there.”

“Alright.” Aline blows out a breath, then holds up her pinky finger. “Deal.”

Alec smiles and locks his pinky with hers. “Deal.”

They set off towards the diner, making easy conversation. Alec tells her about Maryse and Luke’s honeymoon, even though she’ll almost certainly hear the stories first hand at the Lightwood-Penhallow family dinner over the weekend. When they get there, Aline orders for them - a bacon burger for Alec, a chicken burger for her, two strawberry milkshakes and a large box of fries - and says hello to Rita at the till, who’s been working there as long as they’ve been coming. 

Rita had assumed for a while that Aline and Alec were dating, but once they’d set the record straight (as it were), she’d surprised and delighted them both by proudly showing them pictures of her son, his now-husband, and the gaggle of dogs they’ve adopted.

Aline tells Alec about the criminology conference she went to and he updates her in turn about how his research for his thesis on 19th century queer literature is coming on. It makes her so happy to know that they can talk about this so openly now, particularly Alec, whose teenage years were filled with repression and misery when it came to his sexuality. Conversation flows with the familiarity found between old friends, but Aline doesn’t let them get lost in it, keeping her eye on the clock. 

At a quarter to eight, she drags Alec out the diner. It’s still light out and the slate grey buildings of New York City soar high into a sky awash with lilac and pastel pink. They head over to where Helen’s playing, a cosy venue with squishy booth seats and an old mahogany bar along one wall. Aline is practically vibrating with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits with Alec while he gets the drinks in.

They find a booth not too far from the stage that has a good view of where the performers will be. After a couple of announcements by the person leading the open mic, the first act comes to the stage, a guy with a ukulele and a soul patch that Alec automatically groans at. To be fair, he’s actually less excruciating than Aline was expecting. 

Next up is Helen. Aline notices she and Alec aren’t the only ones clapping loudly to welcome her to the stage; there’s a group of about six teenagers over the other side of the room whooping for her who Helen looks over at to shush with a smile. 

“Hey.” Helen takes a seat on the bar stool on the stage and adjusts the mic, then strums gently on her guitar just once. The stage lights catch in her blonde hair, making it glow almost white. “I’m Helen Blackthorn. Thank you for having me.” 

She glances over at the group again, tucking her hair behind her ear, then back to the audience in front of her. Aline doesn’t think she’s been spotted; with the lights on the stage, it must be quite hard for the acts to make out actual faces in the crowd. 

“So this is, um - this is a song I wrote recently about a girl that I know, Aline. I think she might be here tonight? Anyway, um. It’s called  _ Crush _ . I hope you like it.”

Helen starts picking softly on her guitar before she starts singing, but Aline can barely hear it over the way her heart is pounding in her ears. She pinches her arm, then turns to Alec, feeling breathless.

“She wrote a song about me.”

He’s watching her with an amused expression, far less flustered than she is. 

“Yeah, she did.” 

“She wrote a  _ song  _ about me.”

He just laughs, delighted, and Aline turns back to the stage, watching Helen in an entirely new light. 

∞

The day after the open mic is scorching hot, golden sun beating down on the city and blurring the buildings in waves of heat. Eager to escape, Helen takes her siblings to the beach, packing up her mom’s car with their beach towels and swimsuits and a picnic bag full for lunch.

Time passes lazily. Helen gets dragged into a game of volleyball on what she’s sure is the losing side; as the volleyball lands in the sand just beside Mark’s foot with a soft thud, she bites back a groan. Livia and Julian celebrate loudly across from them. 

Mark sends her a sheepish look and collects the ball. Livia’s moved on to victory dancing, but it’s a little premature, especially as Mark wins them back a point as the game continues with his next serve.

He and Helen high five, sand squishing between their toes. The sun is warm on her skin and she can hear Ty and Tavvy laughing together under the beach umbrella a short way up the sand from where they are. Helen smiles, pulling her hair off her neck into a bun, and nods at Mark. 

Julian serves and Helen darts forward to hit it back when she catches a flash of dark hair barely five meters up the beach. The ball sails past her as she pulls up short, watching as Aline and what looks like the Lightwood siblings lay out their towels on the sand. 

“Helen!” 

Mark shoves her good-naturedly and she bats him away.

“It’s her.” She glances back at her youngest siblings. “Drusilla, you’re up.”

As she moves away from her family she can hear Mark complaining about her betrayal, but she pays him no mind. Her legs feel like jelly as she walks towards Aline. She hadn’t had a chance to stick around after the open mic last night; her brothers and sisters had been there and she’d had to get Tavvy home before curfew. 

What if Aline was there?

What if Aline  _ wasn’t  _ there?

She’s not sure which would be better - or worse - and she doesn’t know how to stop feeling so flustered and flighty about the whole thing. It’s ridiculous, really. She was the one who invited Aline to the open mic, and played that song for her, so she has no one to blame but herself. 

Helen realises, when she’s no more than a few steps away from the group, that she has no real plan of what to say. She’s never seen Aline outside the bookshop before. Her feet have brought her here of their own accord, and she shuffles for a second, heart beating wildly against her chest.

“Um. Hey.”

The assembled group - Aline, Alec, Isabelle, and a blonde guy Helen doesn’t know - look over at her. Aline instantly sits up, smoothing her ponytail down and smiling at her. Isabelle waves; Alec grins at her. The blonde guy nods, then puts his sunglasses back over his eyes. 

Aline’s gaze flits up and down Helen’s body and she’s suddenly very aware of the fact that she’s just wearing her bikini top and a pair of denim shorts, but she can’t deny the rush of warmth down her spine at Aline’s appreciative look. She lifts her chin, feeling more confident.

Aline’s voice is warm when she greets Helen. “Hey.”

Helen looks down at her, swallows once. Her thumb jerks over her shoulder. “We’re playing volleyball, if you wanted to join.”

She regrets the words as soon as they’re out of her mouth: her cheeks feel hot and she kind of wants to dig a hole in the sand and bury herself there for the rest of time. But then -

“Sure.” 

Aline is still smiling at her, and impulsively Helen holds out her hand to help pull Aline up. Once she’s standing, Aline nods back to the Lightwoods without letting go of Helen’s hand.

“Don’t invite them. They’re the most competitive people you’ll ever meet.” 

Alec scoffs indignantly, peering at her over the tops of his sunglasses. “Says  _ you _ .”

Helen smiles. “Well, now you have to come. What’s life without a little competition?”

Aline grins at her and interlaces their fingers as they start walking back towards Helen’s siblings. The touch sends tingles through Helen’s body and she tries to tamp down on her smile, unsuccessfully.

“I liked your song, by the way,” Aline says, almost too casually.

Helen’s heart skips a beat. “You were there yesterday?”

Aline’s eyes sparkle in the summer sunshine. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

They end up playing some sort of round robin tournament which dissolves into the kind of chaos expected when two groups of siblings play a game together; at one point the blonde guy - Jace - tosses Izzy over his shoulder and Helen is fairly sure Livvy aims the ball right at Julian’s head when he misses an easy save.

Mark, ever the sensible one, suggests they all go for a swim to cool down, and they spend the rest of the afternoon in the water, dunking each other and playing with inflatables Drusilla procured from somewhere. Ty snaps away with his camera, capturing the moments Helen wants to hold in her palm forever. Alec disappears at one point, ostensibly to get drinks. He returns holding hands with Magnus, who Helen has chatted to a few times during the children’s book group he takes his niece to, flushed pink and smiling.

All the while, Aline never leaves her side. Early in the evening, when the rest of their group are on the beach trying to wrestle the barbecue into submission, Aline swims over to her. Helen’s toes just touch the sea bed and she lets her fingers glide up Aline’s side under the water.

Aline’s hair is wet, curling waywardly, and her smile is as bright as the sun.

“I’m really glad we bumped into each other today.”

Helen nods. “Yeah, me too.” She glances down, then back up at Aline, to find Aline already watching her. 

Aline’s eyes dart to Helen’s mouth. She sneaks her arm around Helen’s waist as Helen cups her face, and when Aline kisses her she’s pretty sure fireworks explode behind her eyelids. 

Loud whoops from the beach make Helen reluctantly pull back, and she sees all their friends cheering for them. 

“Oh my God.” 

She smothers her laughter in her hands, but Aline just pulls them away from her face and kisses her again.

∞

It’s the little things Aline thinks about: the sheen of gold dancing off Helen’s hair in the sunlight, the scent of her perfume - floral, but not too sweet or cloying - and the way she’s always humming fragments of a song. Sometimes she pauses mid-thought to scribble lyrics down in her notepad, then glances guiltily back at Aline with a small smile.

“Hey, if it’s another song about me, I really don’t mind.”

Helen had laughed at that, a bright peal of laughter that felt like the sun warming Aline from the inside out. 

After their day at the beach - and their first kiss, the kind of kiss to write poetry about, if Aline was the poetry-writing type - they’d gone on a few more dates. True to her word, Aline had asked Helen out; they went to a new Turkish place she’d been meaning to try, and another night they’d had drinks and gone dancing at a club Magnus recommended. Gathering the courage to take Helen’s hand in hers, she’d been gifted with a delighted smile from Helen. Sparks shot down her spine at the touch, more so when Helen had trailed her fingers over Aline’s arm, eliciting goosebumps. 

She hasn’t seen Helen in a day or two - they’ve both spent this Labour Day weekend with their families. It shouldn’t make her feel as much as it does, like a balloon filled up with longing and wistfulness and desire, just to be around Helen, to be near her. 

A text doesn’t feel quite the  same . Still, when her phone lights up her bedroom, casting the otherwise dark room in an eerie blue glow, Aline’s heart thumps in her chest anyway. 

Mid-way through her response, the screen changes, showing an incoming call. Aline’s thumb taps to accept instinctively. 

“Hey.” Helen’s voice is hushed, sleepy. “I miss you.” Then she laughs, sounding self-conscious.

Aline lets out a breath and rolls onto her back, smiling. “I miss you, too.”

Helen sighs. “It’s been, like, three days. What’s wrong with us?”

“Clearly we’re both just irresistible,” Aline teases, but she’s not sure if she’s joking. There’s something about Helen - an indescribable pull. It draws Aline in, entranced. 

She’s rewarded with a soft huff of laughter from the other end of the phone. “You definitely are.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

And so it goes on, gentle teasing and back and forth, the ease of it all making Aline feel so at home, until Helen’s breaths are quiet and even.

Helen half-laughs and then sighs. Mumbled: “G’night.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” Aline says gently, into the stillness of the summer night.

∞

Across the row of tables, a guy opposite blows his nose too loudly, then coughs seven times into his sleeve. Helen sighs, refocusing on her textbook, as the other people around them on this floor of the library shush him. 

She misses the bookshop already and it’s only three days into the semester.

Just then, her phone, weighing down the page of her open biochem textbook, buzzes with a notification.

(1) Unread message from: Aline P

Helen smiles giddily to herself, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 

∞

Beams of late summer sunshine shine in through the wide windows of the bookshop, revealing dust motes that float in the air between shelf stacks. 

Aline pushes the door open with a grin, hand in hand with Helen, who follows close behind her. 

“Hey, Luke.”

Luke lifts his hand in a wave. 

“Hi, Aline.” He smiles warmly. “And you must be Helen?” When Helen nods, he adds, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’d welcome you to the shop but I heard you’ve been by a couple times.”

Helen huffs a laugh, catching Aline’s eye, her cheeks dusted with pink. “You could say that.”

“Hey, no judgement.” Luke sends her a conspiratorial look. “I did the same thing when Maryse and I first started dating.”

“Oh, you met at the bookshop?”

Luke shakes his head. “We go way back. Knew each other as kids. But we were both with other people for a long time, had kids, you know, all that stuff. We only reconnected quite recently.”

“Well, I’m glad you guys found each other again,” Helen says. Then she glances at Aline, ducking her head. “Sorry, was that a weird thing to say?”

“No, it’s sweet. You’re sweet.” Aline can’t stop smiling at Helen for some reason, but she doesn’t particularly mind. She ignores the look Luke is giving her across the counter, but she can see him stifling a laugh.

Helen coughs. She can’t take her eyes off Aline. “Anyway, we just came by to pick up some books. Magnus gave us recommendations and Alec said he ordered them in for us?”

Luke’s face lights up with recognition. “Right, they’re just behind the counter.” 

Helen and Luke have a short conversation about the books, but Aline just lets it wash over her, content to watch Helen in her element. She’s done something new with her hair, a complicated braid that pulls it back off her face. Aline wants to run her fingers through it, gentle tease out the tangles. Kiss her breathless, maybe.

She clears her throat. “So, we should get going. We have reservations for lunch.” The last is said to Luke.

“Well, don’t be late on my account. Have fun, both of you.”

Helen smiles at Aline. “Thanks. We will.”

She slides the books into the bag Luke offers her and then takes Aline’s hand again. “Ready to go?”

Aline can’t say why Helen looks so beautiful in that moment, because it’s more than her hair looking cute and the specks of gold shining in her eyes, but it hits her so hard her breath catches. 

She almost says,  _ with you? Anywhere _ , and then she remembers where she is, and that their life isn’t a summer romcom. But she feels light with hope and promise, and she wonders if the bookshop knows it’s home to the start of another love story for the ages.

“Yeah.” She squeezes Helen’s hand. “Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/lukegarroways_) / [tumblr](https://katlisha.tumblr.com)


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